


Just Do It

by ReadItAll



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental Knotting, Awkwardness, Basically PWP, Bottom Derek, First Time, I know this is overdone, M/M, Oops, Stiles is 17, Switching, Top Stiles, Topping from the Bottom, Virgin Sacrifice, Virginity, and then there's porn, but in an awkward and funny way, derek catches him, i don't care, it's fun, stiles does stupid shit, this is turing out longer than I expected
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-03 02:51:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1064878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReadItAll/pseuds/ReadItAll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>----edited and completed as of Jan. 11 2015.----<br/>"He never expected this. </p><p>Fuck. </p><p>Being a virgin at age 17 was nothing to write home about. Even being the only virgin in your group of friends was relatively common. </p><p>But being a 17-year-old virgin about to give it up to a complete stranger in the restroom of a gay club out of literal fear for your life? </p><p>That one might be a bit peculiar."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Interruption

He never expected this. 

Fuck. 

Being a virgin at age 17 was nothing to write home about. Even being the only virgin in your group of friends was relatively common. 

But being a 17-year-old virgin about to give it up to a complete stranger in the restroom of a gay club out of literal fear for your life? 

That one might be a bit peculiar. 

Stiles is realizing this, of course, right about 95% too late. His pants are around his ankles and his forehead is pressed into the grime-covered wall between his forearms. He isn’t even entirely sure what the guy standing behind him said his name was, the club was loud and he had pulled him into the bathroom pretty quickly. So, all things considered, this may not have been the best decision. 

The second he hears the guy behind him pull two spit-slicked fingers out of his mouth and not promptly search for real lube, Stiles knows how stupid this was. There’s a damp finger just starting to rub against him when he hears a loud knock at the door. 

“Busy in here.” The guy, Jason? Jacob? John? Stiles is pretty sure it started with a J, calls out calmly. 

Apparently that was a bad idea. Stiles’ breath catches in his throat when he hears a low growl and the door start to shake. 

“What the fuck, dude, I said it’s busy!” The guy probably going to be brutally murdered by an enraged werewolf shouts over his shoulder as he pushes the tip of his index finger just past Stiles’ rim. 

“STILES.” Derek’s voice is loud enough to hear above the blaring music just outside the bathroom door, but not quite loud enough to get across the level of fucked Stiles is feeling right about now. 

“OKAY. HANG ON. Fuck.” Stiles pushes himself off the wall, dislodging the stranger’s finger and knocking into him briefly. 

“Who the fuck is that?” The guy asks him as they both pull their pants back up. 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

Stiles pulls open the bathroom door with his belt still hanging loosely around his waist. Derek glances down at it and raises his eyebrows at him. The guy, Jared? stumbles past them and back towards the dance floor. 

“What, like you didn’t know exactly what was about to happen in there?” Stiles pushes at Derek’s chest to get him out of the way. He knows that it’s a futile effort, but, hey, he likes to pretend. Being the only relatively defenseless human in a pack of werewolves, hunters, and Lydia isn't terrifying on a daily basis or anything. 

“Your heart rate jumped.” 

“No shit. That tends to happen when you’re about to hook up with someone in semi-public.” Stiles does his best to ignore the halfhearted concern peeking out at him through Derek’s eyes. 

“You didn’t smell aroused.” His eyebrows jump up again, but the bridge of his nose doesn't do that cute little pinch thing, so this time Stiles can tell it’s an intentional move. He was legitimately worried and is trying to play it off. Stiles just thought of him as cute. Shit. He thinks he might faint. 

“Wait one hot second, you can smell that?!?” 

“On you? Practically 24/7.” 

“Fuck.” 

Pushing his way through the crowd and out the front doors with his belt still flopping around, his cheeks redder than they’ve been since Scott stumbled upon his not quite as vanilla as maybe his best friend had expected porn stash, and Derek trailing after him is sadly not the most incriminating thing Stiles has ever done.

That doesn’t stop Derek from following him though. 

In fact, Derek follows him to the Jeep and gets in the passenger side without another word. Stiles huffs out a sigh. 

“Fine. But we are so talking about this later, Sour wolf.” Stiles starts the jeep, puts it in gear, and speeds just a little on the way across town.

Stiles pulls up to Derek’s weird middle of nowhere apartment and doesn’t bother putting the jeep in park. Most likely, Derek is just going to get out, slam his door, and sulk up to his den without saying another word. He’s done his duty. Stiles’ virginity is intact. Congratulations. 

"Stiles.” His voice makes Stiles jump a little. Which makes him pull his foot up off the break, which- “Park, Stiles.” 

"Fine.” 

The jeep firmly parked in the practically empty lot, Stiles flops down as far into his seat as he can. 

Derek sighs. He sounds frustrated. Stiles can’t imagine why. 

“Get out of the car and come upstairs. We’re going to talk about your apparent disregard for your own safety.” With that, Derek slams his door and comes around to the driver’s side. He pulls open the door and reaches across to undo the seatbelt Stiles is still resolutely wearing. 

His upper arm brushes across Stiles’ chest as he undoes the seatbelt, and Stiles can feel the warmth seeping into him through even the briefest of contact. Fuck. And he can smell arousal. Stiles is 100% screwed. 

And not even in the fun way. 

He gets out of the jeep and follows Derek into the elevator anyway. 

Derek doesn’t say anything when they get inside. Not that Stiles is surprised. Derek is annoyingly quiet any time he isn’t threatening Stiles’ life. 

He probably shouldn’t find that as attractive as he does. 

Of course, when Derek finally does open his mouth, it’s not at all what Stiles expects. 

“You’re afraid of being a sacrifice. Still.” Derek is frustratingly spot on. 

"Yes.” 

“The sacrifices have moved on.” 

“I realize that.” 

“The healers are the ones being targeted now.”

“Yup.”

“You’re still afraid.” 

"Got it in one.”

Derek is frowning at him. But he doesn’t look frustrated anymore. Just confused. He steps towards Stiles. 

“You’re not gay.”

"Nope. I’m bi. I think. Definitely into dick. And Lydia. But, you know.” 

Derek rolls his eyes, seemingly relieved that Stiles is talking again. He turns around and walks off down a hallway. 

“Follow me.” 

Stiles opens and closes his mouth a few times before deciding not to comment. He wanders off after him. 

When Stiles reaches the end of the hallway, Derek is shirtless and digging around in the drawer next to his bed.

“Um.” Stiles does his impersonation of a fish again. “That’s. I don’t. What?” 

"You’re afraid. You don’t want to be a virgin anymore.” Derek pulls the lube out of the drawer and tosses it onto the bed before turning to face him.

“…yes.” Stiles gulps.

“You were willing to fuck a stranger, someone you literally knew nothing about, in a bathroom in a club in order to not be a virgin anymore.” Derek crosses his arms and Stiles gets a fabulous view of his pecs flexing. 

“That sounds a lot worse when you say it out loud.” 

“It’s dangerous.” 

“I’m starting to get that, yeah.” Stiles stares blankly ahead, too lost in the view of a shirtless Derek to realize he’s still just standing there like an idiot.

"Are you going to make me say it?”

"What?” 

Derek raises his eyebrows again and—oh. Oh. OH. Holy shit. 

“You’re gonna fuck me?!” Stiles hates the way his voice jumps up at the end. What can he say, it matches his cock. 


	2. Confusion

"Are you going to make me say it?”

"What?”

Derek raises his eyebrows again and—oh. Oh. OH. Holy shit.

“You’re gonna fuck me?!” Stiles hates the way his voice jumps up at the end. What can he say, it matches his cock.

Derek grins a little. His cheeks are flushed the tiniest bit, but it’s clear now to Stiles that he’s trying a little too hard to play it off.

“What if I’d rather fuck you?” 

The shocked look on Derek’s face is completely worth it. 

“I figured it would be easier to get someone I don’t know to stick their dick inside me than it would be to convince someone I don’t know to let me stick my dick inside them.” Stiles is pretty sure he short circuited Derek’s brain. He’s just standing there staring at him. Through him, really.

“I mean, I am totally down for having a dick all up in my business. But, you know, I’d like to give it a go as pitcher, too.” Stiles is starting to think he may have ruined his chance to have sex with the one person he never would have hoped for. 

Wait. That didn’t come out right. 

“I mean. I’m really okay with the idea of having your dick in me. Like, died and gone to heaven okay with it. Who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth?” He’s rambling now, and he knows it. But Derek seems to finally have shaken himself out of whatever stupor Stiles’ offhand smartass remark had knocked him into, so Stiles counts it as a win. 

“If you wanted to fuck someone, why did you offer to be fucked?” Derek is no longer trying to feign control, and he seems to Stiles to have shifted back into the confused and frustrated puppy he first met a year ago. 

“It’s not so much that I prefer one to the other in general. Just that. Well.”

“Stiles.”

“I feel like you could benefit as much from a thorough fucking as I could. And that it’s important to have someone to trust when your past experiences have been shit. And that I’d like to think you trust me. And it’s kind of a huge fantasy I’ve never actually let myself have, so—“

Having started pulling on the strings of his jacket the second Derek said his name, Stiles was paying zero attention to Derek’s reaction. Which means that the kiss catches him completely off guard.

Stiles feels Derek open his lips and press in a little harder as his brain slowly catches up with his body. His stubble scrapes against the sensitive skin at the corners of his mouth, and Stiles lets out a high-pitched giggle. 

“Sorry!” Stiles tries valiantly to pull himself together. 

It sort of works. 

Derek beats him to it. 

“Stiles.” He slides his hands, which had apparently been splayed across his back (when did that happen?), up underneath the layers of shirts and jacket covering his torso. 

“Okay. Yes. To whatever. Just. Yes.” Stiles flings his arms up into the air and tries not to blush when Derek chuckles as he pulls off his clothes. 

Being half naked in front of an equally half naked person is completely different when there’s a decent possibility of there being sex involved. And the blush Stiles can feel creeping up into his ears is a whole new level of embarrassment for him.

Derek can obviously tell he’s beyond uncomfortable right now, but instead of saying anything he just tosses the shirts aside and brings his hands back to his chest. He runs just the tips of his fingers over the sensitive skin around Stiles’ nipples. After a brief moment of panicking over where to put his hands, Stiles takes a deep breath and runs them gently up the sides of Derek’s torso. 

“Oh god.” The skin there is soft. Much softer than he anticipated. And the way Derek’s muscles jump under the light touch has the rest of his blood abruptly rushing south. 

Derek kisses him again. It’s a slow, light kiss; his lips seem barely there. But they are, and it is glorious. Stiles opens his mouth just enough to pull in Derek’s upper lip and suck gently on it, which pulls a somewhat startled sounding moan from the other man. 

“How do you want this?” Derek barely pulls away enough to get the words out, breath trailing over Stiles’ lips and his arms wrapped tightly around him. Cradling him against his body. 

Stiles has never felt safer. He’s going to have to reevaluate that later. 

“Can we do both? Like, what if the stupid Darach or any other bullshit witches are homophobic or something? Who knows what they count as virginity! It could be handjobs, blowjobs, penetration, penetrating, etc. Like, literally etc. Who the fuck knows, you know?” Stiles runs himself out of breath as he goes, panicking a little more with each suggestion. “Oh god. There are so many loopholes. I’m going to die.”

Derek pulls him back against his body and uses one hand to press the back of Stiles’ head gently until his face is buried in Derek’s neck. Stiles takes a deep breath. 

“You’re not going to die.” 

“How do you know that?” His words are muffled, but Derek can hear them clearly. 

“I won’t let you.”

“I feel like that shouldn’t be as comforting as it is.” 

Derek squeezes him a little tighter and kisses the top of his head. Stiles shifts against him.

“Oh.” Stiles can feel it now, hard and thick and pressing against his hip. “You’re hard.”

Derek tenses and pulls his hips back.

“No! Come back, I was just surprised. I mean, I know you’re just doing this for my safety and everything. So I figured you’d have to like, lie back and think of England or whatever, but---“

“Stiles.” He pulls away from him entirely and steps back towards the bed. 

“I trust you. Okay? And you know that I’m attracted to you. Apparently you can freaking smell it. So just. Be honest with me here, okay?” 

Derek doesn’t respond at first. 

“Please. Dude. Just—“

“I think you’re infuriating.” 

“Oh. Great. I’ll just—“

“Shut up.” Derek sits back on the bed and picks up the discarded lube. He fiddles with it while he speaks. “I think you’re infuriating. And brave. And loyal. And my wolf wants to pin you to the bed and tear into you. Fuck you until you can't move or talk.” 

“Oh.”


	3. Red

“Shut up.” Derek sits back on the bed and picks up the discarded lube. He fiddles with it while he speaks. “I think you’re infuriating. And brave. And loyal. And my wolf wants to pin you to the bed and tear into you. Fuck you until you can't move or talk.”

“Oh.”

Stiles takes a few steps towards the bed and pulls the bottle out of Derek’s hands. 

“I think I’d like that.” 

The look Derek gives him makes his breath catch in his throat. There’s a hunger in his eyes that Stiles never would have imagined could be for him. They bleed red for a moment and Stiles feels his heart play the drums against his ribcage. 

Derek closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in through his nose. They’re back to normal when he opens them again, but the hunger is still there. 

“You’re not afraid.” 

“Not of you.” 

The surprise on Derek’s face is evident. But he doesn’t try to dissuade him. Instead, he pulls Stiles down onto his lap on the bed, and Stiles initiates the kiss this time, but it doesn’t stay gentle for long. 

Dropping the lube back onto the bed, Stiles grabs a handful of Derek’s hair and tugs gently. His other hand cups the back of his neck and provides the illusion of keeping him in place. Derek allows it. In fact, he seems to enjoy it. Feeling brave, Stiles tears his mouth away from the bruising kiss and sucks a hot trail down Derek’s jaw and nips lightly at his pulse point. 

The result is instantaneous. Derek flips them over and has Stiles pinned to the center of the bed before he has time to huff out a laugh. In retaliation, Derek sucks a hickey into the crook of Stiles’ neck. He moans loudly. 

“Please.”

“Please what?”

“Oh god. Are you into dirty talk? Tell me you’re into dirty talk. No don’t. I don’t want to come in my pants. Fuck.”

“Fine. I won’t tell you then.”

Derek breathes his way down Stiles’ chest until his lips are poised above a hardened nipple. He bites down gently, letting his blunt teeth drag just a little as he pulls back up. He swirls his tongue around the tip and sucks lightly. Stiles lets out a desperate moan. 

“Sex is going to kill me.” 

Derek pulls away from his nipple and licks a stripe up the center of his chest. 

“It won’t kill you.” He sucks at the skin around Stiles’ collarbones. 

“At least I won’t die a virgin. Oh.” Derek pushes himself up and looks down at Stiles’ flushed face. 

Apparently satisfied with whatever he found in Stiles’ expression, Derek shuffles down the bed and flicks open the buttons on both of their pants. He pulls Stiles’ down to his knees and leaves them for him to finish kicking off as he pulls at his own zipper, leaving his pants hanging open just enough to release some pressure. 

He settles back onto the bed much lower than he started out, and Stiles can’t help the flash of panic that surges through him. Derek looks up at him from where he’s hovering just above his navel and sighs. There’s a softness in his face that surprises Stiles. 

“If at any point you decide you want to stop, tell me.” The honesty and trepidation in his voice confuses Stiles briefly. And then he remembers who is crouching between his legs. 

“I won’t want to.” 

“Stiles.” 

“Okay. But I won’t.”

Derek sighs again and places a gentle kiss just above Stiles’ belly button. 

Stiles’ boxers are tented and damp where his dick has leaked onto the fabric. It is entirely unfair, in his opinion, that he’s not going to be able to wear these back home. Sticky underwear is definitely not his thing. And it seems like he’s been hard for hours. 

Ha. 

He thinks about that for a minute. What it would be like to have one of those erections that lasts longer than four hours. And how awkward that would be to have to explain to a doctor and—

His train of thought derails completely when Derek presses his lips to the underside of Stiles’ cock. He’d been too distracted to notice the front of his boxers being pulled down. 

He definitely notices now. 

Derek breathes deeply for a minute, lips pressed loosely against Stiles’ erection. He darts his tongue out between his lips and moves slowly up towards the head, just tasting. Stiles’ nerves are on fire. 

He makes the mistake of looking down. 

Derek’s eyes are closed and his cheeks are red and his breathing is heavy. Stiles can feel it against his skin. When he gets back up to the top of his cock, Derek opens his eyes. They’re red again. Stiles slams his eyes shut and tries to picture Coach in a bikini. 

It doesn’t work.

Thankfully, Derek applying pressure to the base of his cock does. Stiles whimpers and opens his eyes. 

Derek doesn’t look smug. He looks almost confused. 

“Eyes.” Stiles pants it out and sinks back into the pillows with a groan. 

Stiles can feel Derek tense against him. And then Derek is suddenly in his face and crashing their mouths together again. The kiss is heated and desperate. Too soon, Derek pulls away. 

And then he pulls away entirely. 

“Where are you going?” Stiles can hear the whine in his own voice, but he’s beyond caring at this point.

“Come here.” Derek is standing at the edge of the bed, and Stiles scoots closer to him. 

When his legs are dangling off the edge, Derek tears off his boxers and sinks to his knees. 

“Oh god.” Stiles has died and gone to heaven. There’s no other explanation. 

Derek leans forward and presses Stiles’ thighs apart with his hands as he wraps his lips around the head of his cock. He swirls his tongue around the tip, collecting the precome and humming at the taste. Stiles swears. 

Derek sinks down onto his cock. He takes it into his mouth so far Stiles can feel the head brushing against the back of his throat, and then he takes it in a little farther. Derek’s nose is brushing against the hair at the base of his cock and then he’s pulling back to just the head. 

He does it again. And this time he hums on the way back up. Stiles can’t help the sounds that escape his throat at the feeling of it. The wrecked moan he lets out causes Derek to look up at him. 

His eyes are red again. 

“FUCK.” Stiles thrusts forward and farther into Derek’s throat. “Fuck. Sorry.” He starts to pull away. 

Derek’s hands dart up to his waist and keep him from pulling away. Instead, they pull him forward and up onto his feet. Derek sits back a little with Stiles’ cock still brushing against his throat and steadies him while he catches his balance. Stiles stares down at him, wide eyed, and runs his fingers through his hair. 

Derek’s eyes are still red. And Stiles could swear they’re daring him to do something incredibly stupid. Derek swallows around him. 

Stiles closes his eyes and falls forward a little, lost in the sensation. Derek tightens his grip on his hips. Stiles straightens his back and pulls out a little, but Derek’s hands stop him before he’s far enough away to slip free of his lips. Derek pulls him forward again and looks up at him with his lips wrapped obscenely around Stiles’ cock and an eyebrow raised. 

“Oh. Holy shit. Yeah. Okay.” Stiles grabs a fist full of hair and cradles Derek’s head with his left hand before thrusting slowly forward. He slides easily back into his throat and Derek swallows around him again. 

“Oh god.”

Stiles pulls back, once again stopped by Derek’s grip, and thrusts forward. The hot, wet, tight suction of his mouth is pulling him close to the edge at a rapid pace. His hips stutter and he accidentally pushes a little too hard. Derek makes a brief choked noise and then abruptly pulls his hips forward again. Stiles bites his bottom lip and has to look away for a moment to keep from coming right then. 

Derek digs his fingers a little too hard into the sides of his hips and it’s just enough to pull him back. 

The reminder of just who it is he’s dealing with here is enough to wipe out the worry that had had him holding back. Stiles looks back down into Derek’s glowing eyes and thrusts his hips flush with Derek’s face. He groans, but Derek’s not complaining. He pulls back and does it again. The grip on his hips loosens, and –

“Oh fuck.” This is what Derek had been trying to get him to do all along. 

Stiles fucks into Derek’s mouth. He pulls back and slams his cock into Derek’s throat two, three, four times, and then he’s coming, pulsing into Derek’s mouth with fire spreading up his spine. 

Derek pulls back and swallows it all down. Stiles falls backwards onto the bed. They sit still for a moment, just staring at each other. Then Derek pounces forward and pins Stiles flat on his back. He presses his open mouth against Stiles’ throat, blunt teeth starting to feel a little sharp. 

Stiles can feel the growl work it’s way up through his chest and press through his teeth. 

“Derek?”


	4. In Between

He presses his open mouth against Stiles’ throat, blunt teeth starting to feel a little sharp.

Stiles can feel the growl work it’s way up through his chest and press through his teeth.

“Derek?”

Derek breathes in deeply, his breath hot and sticky against Stiles' neck. Stiles does his damnedest to stay perfectly still, unsure exactly what's happening. Derek huffs another breath and darts his tongue out, licking a thick stripe up the column of his neck and pressing the flat surface of teeth that are definitely sharper than they were a few minutes ago against the tender bit of neck just under Stiles' ear. He groans. 

"Your jeans are kind of half open and pressing zipper first into my dick." Stiles half mumbles against Derek's ear. The force of what will hopefully only be his first orgasm of the evening is pressing against his eyelids, and he just knows he needs to either jump back on the bandwagon asap or take a two hour nap. 

There's an immediate shift in Derek's hips so that they're no longer flush against his, but nothing else about the situation changes. Stiles sighs and wraps his arms around the broad shoulders pressing into him. 

"Okay, big guy. You do you. I'm just gonna shut my eyes for a minute here and try not to actually fall asleep before the official devirgining." 

The growling is back, and louder. This time Derek pulls his lips away from Stiles' neck and smashes them into his mouth. He pries his lips apart with his tongue and presses in hard and fast, mirroring the earlier movements of Stiles' cock. He's still hard in his jeans, precome darkening the fabric and filling the air with their mingled scents. 

Stiles is instantly awake. The slick slide of Derek's tongue against his, still carrying just a hint of his own salty taste, sends a renewed spark of arousal crashing through his system. Derek presses back into him, hips stuttering against his upper legs, just low enough not to cause painful friction from the tight denim. Derek, lost in his own world of heady sex and Stiles, is still being careful with him. 

"Dude." Stiles reaches down to push against the top of Derek's jeans. "Why don't you just take these off already?" 

Derek pauses above him, mouth still showing a hint of fangs, poised above Stiles' lips and ready to crash back down into him at any moment. He closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths. When he opens them his eyes are still shining red and hungry, but the pointy bits have all tucked themselves neatly back away. He groans and pushes himself up enough to pull off his pants. He takes his black boxer briefs with them and flings them carelessly behind him. 

Stiles goes numb. He can feel his mouth start to water all over again. Derek naked is a sight he never thought he'd get to see. But now that he's here, right in front of him stripped bare and shining with want, Stiles is so turned on he can hardly focus enough to appreciate the sight. He swallows harshly and props himself up on his elbows. 

"Shit." It's a wonder he's still coherent enough for words after everything that's already happened, and this. This might even be better than having Derek Hale on his knees silently begging him to fuck his face. "Fuck. Oh jesus fuck." 

Derek is sliding forward and crouching over him again, his dick hot and hard and thick and dark, straining against his abs, and fuck it all, this is officially the best day of his life. Ever. But jesus, the size of it. 

"Well. Mark me down as scared and horny." 

"Is that supposed to be a joke?" Stiles takes note that this is the first thing Derek's said in the last twenty minutes. He's glad he managed to shock him into speech again. 

"It's not my fault you don't appreciate my pop culture references. Get a tumblr." Stiles makes grabby hands at him as he flops back down onto the bed. Derek chuckles under his breath. 

Stiles barely manages to wait for Derek to be pressing him back down into the mattress before he's reaching out and grabbing his cock. It's heavy in his palm, and his fingers barely touch around the girth. He's uncut. 

Of course he is. He's a fucking born werewolf. They heal. Fuck. Stiles' mind is racing and his heart has started dancing the tango in his chest again. He can feel his own dick twitching in response to the thousand different stimulants racing through his vision, touch, taste, mind. Oh.

"Is this what it's like all the time for you? Being hyper aware of everything?" Stiles still has his hand wrapped around Derek's dick, and he starts to move it slowly up and down the shaft, just teasing. 

"You get used to it." Derek has his face shoved into the side of his neck again. But this time he's pressing open mouthed kisses all up and down. 

"The werewolf shit or the sex?" 

"Stiles." 

"Right. Sorry." He rubs his thumb over the head of Derek's dick on the next upstroke. 

Derek makes a rumbling sound deep in his chest, and for a second Stiles thinks he's growling again. He's not though. There's a different pitch to it. 

"Holy shit. Are you purring?"

"Of course not. I'm not a cat, Stiles." Derek looks mildly offended, but goes right back to sucking on the pulse point in Stiles' neck. 

"You're so purring. That's a happy rumble." Stiles giggles and pulls a little harder on his dick. The skin around the head pulls back a little on his downstroke and he can see the slit, shiny with moisture. "This is too hot. You're going to positively ruin me for anyone else. Ever."

Derek bites down on his neck, teeth safely human. But it still stings. When he lets go he presses his lips against the shell of Stiles' ear. 

"Who said you get to give this to anyone else?"


	5. Switch

When he lets go he presses his lips against the shell of Stiles' ear.

"Who said you get to give this to anyone else?"

Stiles stills under him. Derek tenses, opens his mouth to try to take it back, clearly afraid he’s pushed too far, too soon. Stiles stops him before he can say anything stupid by biting at his bottom lip. He reluctantly lets go of Derek’s dick and wraps his arms around his waist, using what little leverage he can muster to push up and flip them over. Derek allows it and sucks his tongue back into his mouth as Stiles settles on top of him.  


He pins Derek to the bed with his hips, knees tucked securely on either side of him and erections pressed hot and tight together between their bodies as he leans down to continue the kiss. 

They can talk about it later. 

Derek grabs hold of Stiles’ head, hands threading through his hair and pulling gently. Urging him on. Stiles likes this side of Derek, needy and desperate. He pulls back and sucks his way down Derek’s jaw and trails his lips lightly along his neck. He sucks a nipple into his mouth and twirls the other between his fingers. Derek makes a pained whining sound, and Stiles pulls away, uncertain.

“Don’t you fucking stop.” 

“Oh.” A grin splits Stiles’ face. 

He pinches at Derek’s right nipple, and Derek pulls his hands back out of Stiles’ hair just in time for him to watch his claws sink into the bedding. 

“Oh man.” 

Stiles flicks his tongue down Derek’s chest, trailing his way between his nipples, stopping to circle each in turn and suck lightly on them. Derek is practically shaking by the time Stiles dips down past his abs and runs his tongue up the underside of his cock. He lets out a ragged moan and bucks his hips up into empty air. 

Stiles grins at him from where he’s sitting up, completely out of the way of Derek’s flushed and straining dick. Derek groans. 

“Say please.” There’s an evil glint in his eye, and Derek practically howls at him. 

He darts one hand out to trace his fingers lightly up and around the head, never quite pressing hard enough to create any real friction. Derek squeezes his eyes shut and takes in two deep breaths through his nose. His fingers flex, claws still sunk into the mattress. 

Stiles grabs the bottle of lube. He flicks the cap open. Derek’s eyes snap open at the sound. 

He pants heavily for a moment, eyes boring into Stiles, daring him to back down. They’re still red. And they’re still hungry. Stiles sticks a finger into his mouth and sucks on it, eyes glued to Derek’s, answering his dare silently. Derek’s cock twitches and his nostrils flare. He breaks eye contact, drops his head back onto the bed, and closes his eyes. Stiles pulls his finger out of his mouth with an audible pop. 

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

“Damn it.” 

“Close, but not quite.” 

Derek swallows, and Stiles stares at his throat. Stiles licks his lips. He squeezes a little bit of lube out of the bottle and onto his fingers. Derek growls, low in his throat but getting louder fast. He shoots up off the bed, sitting up and grabbing hold of Stiles’ head, careful with his claws. 

He stares straight into Stiles’ shocked eyes and hisses out, “I want you to take my dick in your mouth so far back you choke on it as you work me open on your fingers and then fuck me into this mattress. Please.” 

Stiles chokes on air. Derek flops back down onto the bed, digs his fingers back into the comforter, and bucks his hips up at Stiles. 

“Holy fuck, yes.” Stiles slides between Derek’s legs easily, pulling his thighs up and over his own. 

He sinks down to take Derek’s cock into his mouth first, licking his lips and wrapping them gently around the head. He moans at the taste. It’s dark and salty and not quite exactly like his own. He wraps one hand around the base and fumbles for the lube again with the other. 

He coats the fingers on both hands thoroughly before setting the bottle back down within arms reach. Derek chuckles softly at him. Stiles would lecture him about the fact that there is never any such thing as too much lube, but he’d rather take more of him into his mouth instead, so that’s what he does. Derek’s chuckle morphs into a groan. 

Stiles wraps one hand back around the base of his dick, sucking as much into his mouth as he can and pulling his hand up to meet his lips where they stop about halfway. He swirls his tongue around the head and hums lightly. He can hear Derek’s breathing speeding up, and he can feel his pulse through the vein at the base of his dick. 

He feels powerful. 

Stiles grins as he pulls back off of Derek’s cock, hand pressed firmly against the base and lips just barely keeping contact with the head. He grins against him and swipes his tongue out again to tease across the slit. Derek lifts his hips up off the bed, pressing back towards Stiles’ mouth. 

Stiles slides a finger down to rub gently at his rim. He stays like that for a minute; all contact just a hint of pressure. Fingers, lips, tongue, all barely there. 

“Stiles.” Derek’s voice is wrecked. His words are jumbled up in a growl that dies before it reaches his lips. 

He presses in. Just the tip at first, just enough to tease a little more. Derek’s response is beautifully strained. 

Stiles licks his way up Derek’s cock and pulls it back into his mouth in one smooth motion. He pumps the base with his fist as he picks up speed, sucking as he pulls up and slicking the way down with flicks of his tongue. Derek is keening above him. He presses his index finger in to the first knuckle. 

Derek bucks back against him, sliding it in the rest of the way. The move pushes him back into Stiles’ throat, hand squeezing tight around the base. Stiles splutters and pulls off coughing. 

“Sorry.” 

Stiles grins at him and presses his finger in deeper, crooking it at various angles, searching. “No, you’re not.”

Derek arches up off the bed, back bowed. 

“Found it.” 

Derek bites down on his own bottom lip, hard. Stiles can see a droplet of blood forming under a pointed tooth. He grins down at him and presses against the bundle of nerves again. 

This time he presses against Derek’s prostate as he takes him back into his mouth, hand stroking what he can’t quite take, and sucking deliciously in perfect time with each successive press. Just when Stiles can feel his pulse really start to jump, he pulls back. 

Grinning like he’s just won the lottery, Stiles adds a second finger. 

Derek moans through the teeth clenched tight around his bottom lip.


	6. Sex

Grinning like he’s just won the lottery, Stiles adds a second finger. 

Derek moans through the teeth clenched tight around his bottom lip. 

Stiles takes his hand completely off of Derek’s dick and sits back in a crouch between his legs. Derek lets go of his lip and groans, spreading his legs wider around Stiles’ hips. Stiles scissors his fingers apart, stretching. Less distracted now, Stiles can feel how hot Derek is inside, how tight. He chokes down a moan of his own. 

He presses a third finger in alongside the first two. 

Derek hisses and then bucks against his hand. His hips make tiny little jerking motions against him, and Stiles watches in hazy lust filled fascination. 

“Stiles.” Derek’s cheeks are red and his face is loose and relaxed. Stiles swallows thickly. 

“Yeah?”

Derek just nods. 

Pulling his fingers out of Derek’s body is the second hottest thing Stiles has ever experienced. He braces his hands under Derek’s hips and pulls him up a bit. There’s an awkward moment where Stiles frantically tries to figure out how this angle is going to work, but then Derek is shoving a pillow under his hips and pulling him forward. Stiles sits up on his knees, watching as he lines himself up. 

And then he’s pressing in. It’s hotter and tighter and better than anything he imagined, and he’s trying to work his way in slowly, but it’s so hard. He’s so hard, and Derek is opening up so smoothly for him, and he’s just sinking in so beautifully. And then Derek is pulling him forward again, and his hips are flush against Derek’s ass. 

“Oh my god.” 

Derek tightens his legs around Stiles’ waist, and Stiles isn’t entirely sure when he put them there in the first place. 

“Stiles. Move.” 

So he does. Stiles tightens his hold on Derek’s hips and pulls back as much as he can without coming out completely, and then he presses back in slowly. He has to pause once he’s all the way back in, overwhelmed by the sudden realization that he’s here and this is happening and he’s having sex. With Derek. 

He’s inside Derek. 

He darts his eyes to Derek’s face, expecting his eyes to be closed, his head back, relaxed, hopefully enjoying himself. Instead their eyes meet and lock onto one another, mouths open and panting, faces flushed. Derek’s nostrils flare, and Stiles knows he can smell this, even more than he can. He can smell their sex and arousal combined like this. The thought is hotter than he anticipated. 

His hips jerk forward and they moan simultaneously. Stiles tears his eyes away from Derek’s and focuses on where they’re joined. He breathes deeply and starts up a steady rhythm of thrusting, changing the angle every so often to see how Derek reacts. He pulls Derek’s hips just a little closer and thrusts in hard, and suddenly he feels Derek clenching down on him as he positively howls. Stiles’ vision goes blurry at the edges. 

He does it again. And again. His hips stutter against Derek’s, driving in deep, and at just the right angle. He’s sweating and panting, heart racing as his body takes over. Derek’s comforter is a shredded mess underneath his hands, and he’s making noises Stiles’ has only ever heard in porn. And that gives Stiles an idea. 

Taking one hand off Derek’s hips, he reaches out and grabs hold of his cock. Its seems even bigger now, leaking almost steadily against his stomach as it bounces with the force of his thrusts. Derek’s hips start moving with him as he strokes up his shaft, thumb toying with the foreskin. He can feel his own orgasm building fast, hips faltering in their pattern, body singing with the pleasure of it. 

Suddenly he’s on his back and Derek is sinking back down onto his cock, legs bouncing under him and palms flat against the bed on either side of Stiles’ abdomen. Stiles manages to wrap his hand back around Derek loosely, letting him fuck up into it as he fucks himself back and forth on Stiles’ cock. 

Stiles pulls his knees up and presses forward as Derek comes back down. He tightens his grip a little on Derek’s dick and thrusts once as hard as he can, and then he’s coming. Stiles’ insides feel like they’ve been liquefied and mixed with lighter fluid. His body is shaking and every nerve he has is on fire, and, distantly, he’s aware of Derek still rocking back onto him. 

He’s half conscious with pleasure, but he knows the exact moment Derek shakes apart on top of him. He’s suddenly squeezing tighter around him and pulsing in his hand, legs stilling as his whole body tenses. And the sound. Derek comes with a low, deep moan that sounds like it was ripped straight from his soul, and Stiles can’t help but fight his eyes to stay open and watch. 

He starts to let go of Derek’s cock, figuring he’s probably just as over sensitive as he is, but the pitiful whine Derek looks surprised to be making stops him. 

Stiles blinks up at Derek. Derek, who is hunched over Stiles protectively, still pressed flush against his hips, and who has left what looks like at least twice the normal amount of come on Stiles’ stomach. 

“Been a while?” Stiles curses his pathetic sense of humor when Derek stays quiet. He looks up at his face and pales. 

Derek looks kind of horrified. His eyes are back to normal, all green hazel, but the color has drained from his face. Stiles tries to pull his hand away again, but Derek slams his eyes shut and makes that same high pitched whine. Derek’s hips jerk against him, and he can’t help but hiss just a little at the overstimulation. 

“Sorry. I, uh—“ Derek shifts again and appears to try to pull away from him. He can’t quite bring himself to do it though, and the shift in position lets Stiles get a good look at just what’s going on. 

“Oh.” Stiles’ hand is still wrapped around the base of Derek’s cock. Which. Um. Yeah. It’s definitely at least two inches wider at the bottom than it was before. 

Stiles squeezes a bit experimentally. Derek sighs and relaxes. 

“So. I’m guessing, judging by the mix of horror and intrigue on your face, that this doesn’t happen every time?” Stiles flexes his fingers again, and Derek grimaces. 

“It generally only happens when I’m partially shifted. And it doesn’t usually happen without me being aware of it.” His tone is a mix of apologetic and something that sounds suspiciously like shame.

“Dude. It’s okay. I just wasn't expecting it. Are you gonna whine like that if I try to take my hand away again, or was that just surprise?” 

The expression he makes answers for him, and Stiles can't help but let out a breathy giggle.

"So I've got permission to play with your dick for a while?"

Derek groans and leans forward, resting his head against Stiles' chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has read and commented! I know it's been quite a while, but I did a bit of editing and added a few lines to the end as a way to wrap it up just a bit. I won't be continuing this particular story any further, but suggestions for future works are always appreciated. 
> 
> Thanks again, you're all great!

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first work I've posted, and it was written in a very short amount of time out of complete boredom, so constructive criticism is greatly appreciated! Also, suggestions for the future and for the next chapter(s) are welcome!  
> \----I finished college in the last year, so everything else got derailed. This work has finally been edited and completed though!----


End file.
